Publish your poems,

your stories,

your soul songs.

A world of lonely people

are waiting for you

with open arms. 

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Preamble: for this Saturday's theme of DANCE.

I hear music. The beat begins.

It taps gently at my consciousness and slowly enters in.

It slides through my skull like the lift of warm caffeine

Raising pulse, slowing thoughts, it’s as if I’m in a dream…

Step by step I’m vanquished, it takes over my brain

It numbs my higher functions, until nothing remains

But the essence of...

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Preamble: see below for explanation that is too long to preamble here.

I didn’t know I was still angry till the day I heard you’d died.

Suddenly the old bitterness is welling up inside

I haven’t given you a thought for literally years

But now I find my eyes are filling up with tears

Not of grief, but of re-awakened pain

Reliving the sting of your words all over again

I’m not ...

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When the wind blows
And the snow starts to fall
And the sun is nowhere to be seen
When the skies are all grey
And the temperature plummets
And the morning frost lays like a blanket
The best place to be is a pub by the fire
With family and friends and our lovers
With great conversation and music 
Much laughter to lighten the mood
We can shut out the cold uninviting
And enjoy this brief i...

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How can I cope with this devil on my shoulder, The heat is on but its making me colder, When I was younger it hoped I’d grow older, Started off small now it’s heavier than a boulder, 

You say I’m fine well I’m sick in the head, You say I‘ll cope well I’m sick of this mess, I don’t know how long I can stick with this stress, If it was my way then I would’ve writ this in red, 

I’m go...

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I step out

Into that mystic choir

That holds my heart

Where time, standing still,

Moves with the seasons

Quietly changing my world

With its elemental tune

While my song is barely heard:

A contrapuntal whisper

Struggling for harmony

For my land is my chancel

Hymns hum soft on its breezes

And prayer rises in its stillness

In this quiet place of remembrance

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Spell-binding hammer-pounded sunlight retina-

flinches squint-eyed revel-faces.  Crowd folk lost in

head clouds slow-revolve whilst time is on leave, passing

without fail – stopping to tell me not to hurry,

moving on unnoticed, startling late-crowds with

midnights and an early, well spent sun rise.  Band-lulled

we join a synchronised gyro-walk, pacing the

flow-gyratory past fo...

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